Of Loving Things and Wedding Rings
by wildpeace
Summary: Tike Week, Day 4 - 'Here Comes the Bride' "Well a man shall leave his mother, and a woman leave her home, and they shall travel on to where the two shall live as one. As it was in the beginning it is now until the end - woman draws her life from man and gives it back again, and there is love."


He proposes to her on Christmas Eve in Lima. They're standing in the Hudson-Hummel garden in the glow of the white fairy lights, and snow keeps falling and settling in their hair and on their eyelashes.

When Mike looks over at Tina, she's laughing, her face tipped towards the full moon and her scarlet-mittens upturned to catch the falling flakes. From inside, they can hear Mercedes and Quinn harmonising on 'O Holy Night'.

Reaching into his pocket, Mike sets something else in her palm instead. It glints against the flakes of ice and nestles in the ruby wool, and she looks down at it with wide eyes.

"Marry me?"

Tina stares down at the ring, at its intricate silver band and small, sparkling stones. Carefully, she closes her hand so the little item is safe inside and reaches her other hand out for his.

Their gloved fingers grip, tightly, and she grins into the darkness.

"Okay."

XxX

He's on one knee in the utility room when he finally slides the ring onto her finger, and with wind-bitten cheeks and plum coloured dress she looks every bit the 'blushing bride'. She kisses him until he can't see straight.

Tina's thirty seconds into the living room and reaching for one of Rachel's famous Hanukah sugar cookies when the first shriek is uttered. Then Santana's grabbing her wrist and Kurt is clapping his hands together and Brittany is hugging Tina in a flurry of blonde hair and excitement and candy cane kisses, and the guys nod in Mike's direction wearing small smiles that he translates as 'nice job'.

Puck actually squeezes his shoulder and it makes him feel absurdly proud.

XxX

It's February and they're broke and living off Ramen and cheap coffee and so a long engagement seems preferable. It'll give them time to save some money, for Tina to graduate in a year, to get jobs sorted out and maybe a bigger apartment. They're not in a rush.

At least they're not in a rush until Mike's mom starts sending him emails about 'traditional Chinese weddings' and prayers in Mandarin, and Tina's grandmother calls and offers the _chigori _that she had worn at her own wedding, and Tina's father reminds her about her great Aunt from Inchon who would be horribly offended if she couldn't serve her famous _kimchee _at the festivities_. _

Santana – visiting for the weekend from New York – finds Tina face down on her mattress after one of these phone calls and flops down next to her, crossing her arms behind her head.

"If it was me," she offers, nudging Tina with her toe. "I would just elope."

With her face pressed into a pillow, Tina feels a light bulb go off above her head.

XxX

Mike and Tina talk for a long time – days and weeks and almost a month - but finally veto eloping. Firstly, their parents would kill them; secondly, Vegas is tacky and they haven't got the money to go anywhere nicer; and thirdly, neither one of them can bare the thought of telling Brittany they'd had a wedding without her as bridesmaid.

"I promised her," Mike insists, as they lay huddled under the blankets of their bed, trying to ignore the howling wind outside. Rain beats against the windowpanes and a small draft makes the curtains flutter in the breeze.

Instead, under the covers, they make a plan for something altogether much better, and much more original.

"A ninja wedding," Tina giggles, pressing her cold toes against his shins to warm them up, her body swathed in sweats and an old t-shirt of his that is whisper soft and smells like detergent and Mike.

He gathers her closer, rubbing his large hands up and down her back to warm her up, tucking her feet between his. "A secret-'til-the-latest-possible-moment wedding."

Lifting her chin, she kisses him square on the mouth. "A decidedly _**non**__-Asian_ wedding."

They shake hands under the blankets, and another kiss seals the deal.

XxX

They draw up a simple list of what they want for the wedding: their parents, their friends, good music and a cake. Maybe some flowers. Tina browses dresses online and Mike flicks through his itunes for first dance inspiration.

In March they take an evening walk by the water and discover a small restaurant tucked behind a low brick wall and a row of trees. The staff are friendly and the food is simple but mouth-watering, and the restaurant's garden stretches out and seems to disappear into the horizon.

When they find out it's available for weddings, they write their names down immediately.

XxX

Following their final year Spring performance, Mike and his friend from college are hired to choreograph a music video and so he's out of the house from morning 'til night. When he comes home he takes a hot shower and falls into bed and Tina fusses with him to eat something as she tries to write a research paper and investigate the prices of local florists.

The day of their final shoot he comes home exhausted, but with a cheque for $5000, and drags Tina into the shower with him. Hot water sprays across their skin as she massages his shoulders and kisses down the length of his spine.

"We can afford a wedding," he tells her as he presses her back against the cold tiles.

She kisses him, hard.

"I think it's probably time."

XxX

They buy invitations at the corner shop downstairs from the apartment, at the same time as a gallon of milk and some bright summer flowers. Tina's eyes are drawn to the vibrant orange petals and she breathes in their scent with a look of delight that makes the extra five dollars more than worth it, in Mike's opinion. Holding hands, they climb the stairs to their home, throwing names into the open air to be met with one of the words: _yes, no _and_ reserve. _

Tina's neat handwriting labels each card, every name and every person carefully chosen and lovingly penned. The small scale of the wedding means she's finished in under an hour and spends the rest of the afternoon snuggling onto the sofa with Mike, who reads aloud to her from Cosmo as they sip their coffee, legs intertwined under the bright patchwork quilt that Mike's mom had mailed to them their first winter in the apartment.

They've just finished taking a quiz ("See Tina? Cosmo thinks I need to be more assertive in order to get the man I truly deserve." - "Yeah, well Cosmo also thinks all life's problems can be solved with a more expensive hand bag, so I wouldn't trust it too much babe,") and Mike's arms are snaked around her waist, his fingers tucked into the waistband of her jeans more for warmth than titillation.

"Are we ridiculous to only give people two months notice for our wedding?"

Leaning back, Tina rests her head on his shoulder. "They'll come."

"But what if they ca - "

"They'll _come." _

She sounds so definite as she stares at the small stack of invitations that all Mike can do is hug her tighter.

"Okay," he agrees. "Okay."

XxX

It takes five days for the invitations to reach their targets and the calls to start flooding in. Their voicemail bares the brunt as they race between classes and part-time jobs.

"Michael, I don't understand this. It's April, you graduate in May, you want to get married in June and you're only telling us now? What if your mother and I had had plans? When are you going to start looking for jobs?"

"Don't listen to him – Michael, we're thrilled, you know we love Tina. We're just worried that with college and everything you won't have time to get a wedding together. At least not the kind of wedding you want. And we thought you were planning on waiting until Tina graduates."

"We understand getting engaged, but, well, the whole wedding is a little sudden."

"Michael, is there a **reason** you've decided to have the wedding so quickly? Is there something you and Tina need to tell us?"

XxX

"Tina, sweetie, this is all so exciting! But it is a little sudden. Did something happen, make you change your mind about waiting for the wedding? We won't mind honey, your father and I are so happy for you, whatever order these things happen in. We just want you to do whatever you want to do. Oh, but sweetie, Dad says do you want Aunt Mihi's kimchee recipe? And did you send an invitation to your grandmother? Oh…wait…sweetie, Santana's on the other line. I guess she got her mail too. I'll call you later, give our love to Mike."

XxX

"Tina Cohen-Chang! You do not send someone a wedding invitation _two months _before the wedding and just scribble on the bottom _'p.s., any chance you could make my dress?' _I could drive to Chicago right now and _**kill you **_but unfortunately I have to get sketching if we're ever going to get this done. Short notice is no excuse for bad fashion Tina! And you better call me back as soon as you get this because with all of this urgency surrounding this wedding I'm going to need to know if this dress is supposed to be _covering _anything. Understood? Love you, Single Lady."

XxX

"Hey Mike, hey Tee. Just got back from Canada and got my mail and wanted to say congratulations. And hey, dude, as for being best man…you didn't even need to ask. And I got no problem sharing the job, but I get dibs on the strippers, right? At least the hot ones? We can give Puckerman the cougs. Nah, just kidding Tee! Don't worry. I got his back and I promise no strippers. Wait…no _prostitutes. _And only ugly strippers? I'm making plans! Congrats again you guys."

XxX

"Changsters! You're getting married in two months? Fuck, did you guys get knocked up? Whatever, Brit's losing-her-shit excited. I'm coming down in a couple weekends and you better tell me everything. _Everything._ I mean it, okay? Later Losers."

XxX

Tina calls everyone back once the cell rates are cheaper, tells them she isn't pregnant and that's not why the wedding is at short notice, and listens to a whole range of reactions: from surprise, to confusion, amusement to unhindered joy. Mike wanders off to Skype Sam about his co-Best Man slot and Tina listens to Kurt berate her for the better part of 15 minutes before he'll actually listen to her talk about her dress.

He gasps at the word knee length and curses at the phrase – _"Oh, and maybe Brittany and Santana's dresses too?" _ At least he's dressed the other two girls before – she's not springing an unfamiliar body on him - and what Tina is asking for is simple and elegant and she's read enough fashion magazines that she can be very clear in her requests. "Are you really going to be able to do this?" she asks, and for the first time she sounds unsure. She chews on the edge of her fingernail and rocks her heels on the hardwood floors. "I know it's a big ask."

Kurt simply scoffs. "Oh please, I'll just rope Mercedes into help. We're not letting you down that aisle without knowing that you look as perfect as you can. And so what if it's two months? I'm pretty certain by now I can sew sequins in my sleep."

XxX

Tina catches the flu at the end of May.

She stays up all night studying for her third year finals and spends the mornings in exams. Afternoons are spent running between caterers and florists and fielding a hundred text-messages from her Mom, and Mike's mom, and Kurt and Mercedes and all their other friends with questions and queries and suggestions. Finally, she breaks down in the middle of the kitchen, throwing a mug (white, with kittens parading around it) across the room so it shatters against the floor. Staring at the mess, Tina catches sight of one of the little kitten faces in the broken ceramic and begins to sob.

Mike catches her before her knees hit the floor, and holds her against his body. He murmurs gentle words into her ear – gentle, calming, soothing words – and strokes her hair until her crying ebbs just slightly. He can hear the whistled wheezing coming from her chest and surreptitiously presses his hand against her forehead to check for a fever. She's hot, and he can feel her trembling against him.

"I broke the cup," she hiccups. "I haven't confirmed the vegan option for Rachel, and Kurt says I can't lose anymore weight because otherwise the dress isn't going to fit, and I don't even know what we're going to have as our first dance!" Her words are snatched between heaving breaths, and Mike knows she must feel absolutely terrible because she doesn't even argue when he picks her up in his arms.

In the bedroom he helps her into old, comfortable pyjamas, and pulls the blankets up to her shoulders. "I'll take care of it," he promises, kissing her eyelids, smoothing her hair back from her flushed face.

From the pillows, she sniffles. "Are you sure?"

"I'll take care of it."

XxX

Mike graduates and Tina passes her third year, and they celebrate in the bathtub with a bottle of red wine. Bubbles are slick on their skin and Mike doesn't even care that he's going to smell like lavender when he gets out. The way Tina's hands are moving over him, he could smell like a whole freaking meadow and not even care. They toast her success and kiss with tannin-stained lips, and candle light arcs and bends in the small bathroom.

XxX

People start arriving in Chicago four days before the wedding, and Tina finds her tiny apartment filled to burst. In a whirl of people she stands in her underwear up on the coffee table as Kurt fusses with a tape measure, Santana cracks the top off two beers and hands one to Gloria Cohen-Chang, and Brittany and Mercedes look through Mike and Tina's old CD collection.

(Tina's secretly glad that Mike's parents aren't coming down until the day before – she loves Mike's parents, she _does, _but it just takes some of the pressure off.)

Tina knows most of the boys are with Mike at the hotel (apparently Matt had booked a suite for all of them as one of his 'co-Best-Man' jobs), and that Quinn is on a plane, and Rachel is getting the train that evening (after her matinee performance).

As she stands in her underwear, with Kurt tsking and measuring ("Seriously, does Mike feed you? You look like you live off coffee and Ambian." / "She's always had a fast metabolism, isn't that right Tina sweetie?" / "I blame all the sex. Seriously, that's like a hardcore cardio workout like, what? Every thirty minutes with you two?"), and Santana and her Mom drink their beer and talk about their outfits for the wedding, and their planned hairstyles.

"I'm having mine braided, right Tina?" Brittany pipes up from where she sits with the Annie soundtrack in one hand and Yo Yo Ma in the other. Her hair – at present - piled up on top of her head and held with a pencil.

Tina nods her head - a small, controlled move that tries desperately not to aggravate any of the pins that Kurt has been sticking in the material around her body – "Whatever you want Brit," she tries to smile, but at the sight of Santana and her Mom snickering evilly at something on the couch, Tina can't help but roll her eyes. "Seriously, you two, I'm right here. Could you maybe stop talking about my sex life?"

Santana has the good graces to at least duck her chin and smirk, but Gloria just stands up and approaches the coffee table. Reaching up, she cups Tina's cheek. "Sweetie," she starts, taking a pull of her beer. "You know it's just because we love you. I've always been very proud that you have good sex with Mike. It says a lot about your compatibility. And, well, I assume it's good sex, seeing as how the year you were eighteen you two went at it pretty much non-stop."

"Eighteen? They barely come up for breath now. Seriously."

Tina glares at Santana but at that moment Kurt pulls the material tighter and slides in a pin that could quite easily slice something vital if she makes any sudden moves. "If you would just learn to knock," she shoots back, raising an eyebrow, but Santana just smirks and tugs her beer.

"Where would be the fun in that?"

XxX

Three days before the wedding all the guys have finally made it to Chicago (Puck being the last to arrive in typical fashion), and have firmly taken over the largest suite in the hotel. Matt runs the show with a businessman's panache (despite being a mechanical engineering major), and so by the time Mike arrives at his Bachelor Party (tackled in his apartment, blindfolded and stuck in the trunk of Artie's car, because that's how Puck and Finn roll and Artie gets some seriously choice parking), a bar has been assembled from all of the alcohol, and three different video game consoles sit, waiting to be hooked up to the large TV.

Mike blinks in the light as the scarf is pulled off of his eyes.

Blaine, Sam, Finn, Puck, Artie, and Matt all stand, grinning wickedly at him.

Kurt holds a silver tray full of shot glasses. The liquids in them vary from clear to amber to brown and Mike tries to avoid looking at the bright green one. "Groom's choice," Kurt winks.

Mike wonders how many ways Tina will kill him if he ends up in the ER.

XxX

Mike's never realised how uncoordinated Sam is until he watches him and Puck go head-to-head on Dance Mat. Not that Puck is doing much better, but he at least hasn't fallen off the mat more than once. Though Mike wonders how much of that is to do with coordination, and how much of it is to do with the multi-coloured drinks that Matt keeps handing out to everyone with a grin and the words 'trust me'.

Blaine is sitting on the sofa next to Mike; body practically vibrating with excitement as he waits to take winners, he doesn't even seem to notice the way is Kurt absent-mindedly winding his fingers through his dishevelled curls. Kurt – for his sins – has spent the night sticking to white wine and taking gratuitous amounts of photos that Mike dreads to see in the light of day.

"Loser takes shots!" Matt calls out from the bar, where he is filling up another set of shot glasses with amber liquid and grinning wickedly. At some point in the last few hours he and Sam had both tied ties around their foreheads, Rambo-style, 'to show their Best-Manly status' and Matt had since stripped down to just his undershirt and jeans. Someone (Mike assumes Puck) had added green camouflage streaks to his cheeks. "And whenever anyone else takes a shot - "

"Mike takes a shot," Mike completes with a groan, because this seems to be Matt's answer to everything so far.

Artie just grins at him.

XxX

Dance Mat gets unplugged after three complaints from the room downstairs and an almost disastrous 'back-flip-meets-television' incident. Since then, Blaine's been ordered to keep both feet on the ground at all times by Kurt (with threats that Mike's not honestly sure he needed to hear the details of) and they've all fallen into a circle around the room, clutching different coloured bottles in their hands.

Puck nurses a bottle of Jack, a cowboy hat pulled low down over his aviator-shielded eyes. "I can't fucking believe you're getting married in two days."

"Three days," Mike corrects, almost fumbling the bottle of tequila as he takes another drink, but Puck just shakes his head.

Holding out his wrist he taps at his watch. "Two days, dude. It's three am."

"Fuck."

XxX

"You know what I…what I love about…about Tina?"

Mike's sprawled on the floor and he doesn't quite remember getting there, but Sam and Finn are laying next to him and Kurt and Blaine are stretched out on the couch making out. Artie's stacking shot glasses into a tower on the coffee table and Matt and Puck are sitting on the window ledge, sneakily smoking out of the half-open window.

"Her boobs?" Puck guesses, blowing smoke rings, hat tipped back on his head.

"Her ass?" Matt suggests, taking a shot between drags.

"Her legs?" Finn adds, and then laughs when Mike reaches over and punches him in the side. "Hey! How come they don't get hit?"

"You're closer," Mike grumbles, but pushes himself up on his elbows. He's shirtless, and at some point the words 'bride-to-be' had been scrawled across his abs in Sharpie. He's pretty sure there's a tic-tac-toe game down there somewhere and potentially something pornographic on his back; Puck had been behind him and he hasn't seen his skin in a mirror yet. "I love Tina," he insists, loudly, "because she's awesome. She's like the most awesome girl in the world." He sits up, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his legs around them. "She's so awesome," he says again, but then his mouth twists, and his face falls, and he runs a hand through his hair. "What if…what if I'm not awesome enough for her?" he asks, suddenly. "What if like, I'm a terrible husband? Or a terrible father?"

"Wait, Q told me Tina's _not _knocked up?"

"What if…what if she stops finding it cute when I talk in my sleep, or I never make enough money as a dancer and I can't provide for us? What if she finds someone better than me? Someone who can sing amazingly and knows all the words to Regina Spektor and Bjork? What if…God, what if she wakes up in ten years and she doesn't love me anymore?"

Mike can feel his breath quickening, and then he's up on his feet and pacing, narrowly avoiding Sam's fingers and Finn's absurdly long legs.

"Dude," Matt shakes his head from the window. "Never going to happen."

His ramblings are heated enough to distract even Kurt and Blaine, who pull apart from one another to watch him flail. Blaine raises an eyebrow. "Tina's crazy about you."

"She might meet someone better."

Artie scoffs, stacking the last glass on the top of the tower with a triumphant glean, before looking over the top of his glasses to Mike. "Like who? Seriously, have some faith, this is _Tina _we're talking about." (Mike feels her name like a punch to the gut). "If she was going to cheat she'd have taken Puck or Santana up on their offers years ago."

From the window, Puck nods his head. "Professor X speaks the truth."

Finn's arms are crossed behind his head and he stares up at the ceiling. "You guys are like…chocolate and peanut butter. Or ham and mustard. Or cheese and pepperoni."

"Okay, now I'm hungry," Sam murmurs from his place face down on the floor. "Do we have pizza left?"

Blaine scoots the box towards Sam using his toes, but Finn just stares at Mike seriously. "You guys just work. Like, you're awesome on your own but you're at your most super tasty when you're together."

"Something about that sounds really wrong," Sam notes, biting into a slice and then cursing as a piece of ham falls onto his jeans.

"You know what'll make you feel better?" Matt asks, flicking the butt of his cigarette out the window and standing up, rubbing his hands together. He reaches behind the TV and pulls out a new, completely full bottle. "Shots!"

XxX

Mike's standing in the doorway, bare-chested, bare-footed, with his keys held in one hand and a beer in the other. His hair sticks up in six different directions like a porcupine and he leans heavily on the wall.

"I'm g-going," he hiccups, waving at everyone. Blaine and Sam are dancing on top of the kitchen counter (and why Blaine feels the need to throw paper napkins everywhere, he's not really sure), Puck's lighting shots on fire and making Artie drink them, and Finn's passed out on the floor. Mike hasn't seen Matt since he bumped into a girl from the next-door room at the ice machine. "Tell Tina we can't get married because she's so pretty."

None of them reply.

Kurt wanders back from the bathroom, and watches as Mike tries to get his apartment key in the inside door of the hotel room. "Hey Mike, whatcha doing?"

Frustrated, Mike rests his head against the door. The wood is cool and smooth against his skin. "Won't open," he growls, despondent. "Tee…Tee deserves someone who can buy all the pretty things and make her a queen and will tie her up every day 'cause she likes it. I gotta get back to my house."

There's a crash, and then Blaine's looking guilty and a bottle of beer lies smashed on the floor, Finn doesn't even stir but Puck knocks over the shot glass he's currently lighting and curses as the liquor spills across the wood and drips onto his jeans.

Sighing, Kurt puts his hands on his hips. "Right."

Grabbing Mike by the shoulders, he steers him towards one of the armchairs and pushes him until he is sitting down. "Don't move," he orders, and then grabs a bottle of water from the mini-bar. "And drink this." Marching around the room, Kurt pulls Blaine and Sam down from the counter, confiscates Puckerman's lighter (because they had been _this close _to setting the couch or Artie's wheelchair on fire) and grabs his cell phone from his pocket. Scrolling through his contacts, he presses his phone to his ear and has to wait for it to ring three times before someone answers. His request is direct. "Please can you tell your fiancé that you're not going to stop loving him and leave him for some kinky super star with a trust fund so he'll go to bed and stop trying to escape from his own Bachelor Party with no shoes and some drawings of questionable taste all over his back?"

There's obviously complete confusion on the other end, but Kurt just shoves the phone towards Mike, who takes it and holds it to his ear. "'Lo?"

"Mike?" Tina's voice is slurred for the late hour and the bottle or two of wine she, San and Brittany had shared before curling up in bed, but she's awake enough to have taken in Kurt's words, or at least general message. "Everything okay babe?"

Mike's heart beats harder at her voice, and he curls up in the chair, holding the phone tight against his ear as though to bring her closer to him. "I love you Tee," he murmurs into the phone, licking his tequila-parched lips and feeling his eyelids flutter. "And if there's a guy who wants you for your amazing boobs and he's like a billionaire and all I'll kick his ass. You know why?"

"Why Mike?" He's pretty sure he can hear Tina (and possibly Santana) giggling, but he nods his head and answers her anyways.

"'Cause you're the chocolate to my peanut butter. The Fred to my Ginger. The Asian to my Fusion." He picks up one of the chair's cushions and hugs it tightly to his body. "Hey Tina?"

"Yes babe?"

"We're getting married in two days. Can you believe it?"

He can definitely hear laughter now (Santana's low, dirty chuckle and Tina's stifled giggling, followed by a confused sounding voice asking sleepy questions) and sheets rustling. Tina's smiling – he knows it just from the tone of her voice and it makes him feel better instantly – "I know we are. But you know what you need to do before we can get married?"

His eyes are heavy and his head lolls against the back of the chair. "Hmm?"

"You need to go to sleep babe. Go find a bed, lie down, and tell Kurt I hope he's taken plenty of pictures because it sounds like you guys have had a good night. Oh – and Brittany says drink grape juice because then when you puke tomorrow at least it'll be pretty."

"Okay," he agrees, and he pushes himself up just enough to stumble towards the bedroom. Sam has already passed out at the foot of the bed, so Mike curls up against the pillows and tries not to kick him. "I'm goin' sleep," he tells Tina in a stage whisper, closing his eyes. The room tilts but he just grips onto the bedspread to keep himself steady. "I love you Tina Cohen-Chang."

"I love you too," she tells him simply, and he's about to hang up the phone when she adds, "Please text me in the morning so I know you're alive?"

He salutes, even though she's not there to see it, and hangs up the call with a click of the button. Unconsciousness pulls him in before the phone ever hits the mattress.

XxX

Mike wakes up in the morning to the sound of vomiting.

It's not Sam, because Sam is still curled in the foetal position at the end of the bed, and it's not Puck because Puck would have the sense to close the door, and it's not Finn or Artie because Mike can see them through the open bedroom doorway, both passed out in the living room.

Gingerly, Mike lifts his head and from that angle can see Blaine hunched over the toilet, his curly hair sticking up and wild, and Kurt sat on the floor next to him wearing only a pair of loose-fitting sweats and rubbing his back.

"Only you could drink all night and not throw up, and then mistake the kiwi schnapps for your mouthwash."

Blaine doesn't respond, but vomits again with a groan.

Mike can't bear the sound, so he lifts his body up from the bed. His arms ache and he curses as he finds his torso covered in ink, and the floor tips and tilts beneath him. Walking – slowly and using the walls for support – he makes it as far as the kitchen, and turns the faucet on.

The water rushing into the sink is like someone drilling inside of his brain, and he does the only thing he can think to do – he sticks his whole head under the running water. It's bitingly cold and he curses out loud, and he's fairly certain his heart actually skips a beat, but he keeps it under there until the clouds begin to clear from his mind.

Finn and Artie stir, and Puck lifts his head up from the floor long enough to swear furiously at Mike and cover his face with a pillow.

It's at that moment that the hotel room door opens, and Matt comes strolling in, bright eyed, freshly showered, and with a large grin on his face. "Morning campers. Have a good night?"

Mike stands, rivulets of freezing water running down his graffitied torso.

"I hate you."

XxX

The Best Men drop Mike home somewhere around lunchtime, but refuse to come upstairs.

"Are you kidding?" Sam asks, sunglasses on his unusually pale face, his hair messy and his skin unshaven. He buries his hands deep in his jeans pockets. "If we go up there, Tina's actually going to kill us."

"She's going to take one look at you and rip my balls off," Matt agrees, sipping a large coffee and eating a bagel – the sight and smell of which makes Mike have to hold back a wave of nausea. "And I'm pretty fucking attached to my balls. I mean, seriously, what did you do after I left? It was four in the morning."

"Bathed in acid and took flaming pokers to the eyes if the way I feel is any indication," Mike murmurs, searching in his pocket for his keys. "How you're so fucking chipper I don't know."

"Clean livin'," Matt winks, throwing his arm around Sam's shoulders. "Now get upstairs, get some sleep, and we'll be back for you in the morning okay? And call us if you need anything."

"A new liver?"

"Kiss Tee for us."

They both wave him off, Sam wincing slightly in the bright sunshine and Matt wearing a large grin as he starts talking about something Mike can no longer hear. Mike curses as he hauls his body up the three flights of stairs to their apartment, and knocks because he can't even fathom getting his key in the lock.

It takes less than ten seconds for Tina to open the door.

"Oh dear Lord, what have they done to you?"

XxX

It takes thirty minutes in the shower and almost half a bottle of nail polish remover for Tina to scrub the Sharpie off of his skin. She almost threatens to leave the 'property of Tina Cohen-Chang' that is scribbled in Blaine's handwriting across his shoulder blade, but his knees are trembling under the hot water, and so she takes pity on him.

He face-plants onto their bed and realises Brittany must have been sleeping on his side last night because his pillows smell like vanilla and cherry in a way that is vaguely comforting and slightly nauseating. The droplets of water dry on his bare skin, making him shiver.

By the time the sun goes down he feels fairly human, and as Tina curls up next to him and feeds him small bites of toast, he finally manages to utter the words that have been playing on his mind all morning.

"When Matt gets married, I'm going to destroy him."

XxX

The next day is filled with errands. Tina picks up her grandmother from the airport and delivers her to the hotel where her parents are staying, drives to where _Kurt _is staying so she can have one last fitting, makes calls to the florist and the caterers and finds time to have lunch with Rachel, Quinn and Mercedes, who she feels bad for not catching up with before now but there's just so much to do and –

"Don't worry about it," Quinn laughs, her hand resting over Tina's, who fiddles with the straw in her Diet Coke. "It's your wedding! We're just pleased to be here."

Rachel pushes her hair back, nodding her head as she eats her fruit salad. She pops a piece of pineapple between her lips. "And you know if you need me to sing anything, I'm more than happy to offer my services." There's a long pause as Tina shares a look with Mercedes and Quinn, but then Rachel just breaks into laughter. "You guys, I'm kidding!"

Mike has to go suit shopping with Matt – who insists on trying on practically every tie in the store – and his Dad, which normally would be a fairly pleasant day out, except his dad keeps shooting him frowns and clearing his throat in a less-than-subtle manner. Matt's chatting up the sales assistant when Mike finally turns to his father and hisses, "_What?" _

"You're not going to wear a jacket to your wedding?"

"_Dad - "_

"Can _I _wear a jacket?"

Mike feels his stomach clench, and the words seem to explode from between his lips. "Dad you can wear what you want. Wear a snorkel and flippers for all I care. I mean my friend Kurt will kill you if you do, but I. Don't. Care. I just want you to be there."

His dad is silent for a moment, fingering one of the ties in the display. "You know, you never would have spoken out like that before you started dating Tina."

"_Dad."_

"No, I'm saying it's a good thing." He claps his son on the shoulder, squeezing firmly. "She forced you to speak out, encouraged you out of your shell. She's a good girl Junior." The smile on his face speaks volumes, and Mike can feel his stomach begin to un-knot. Both Chang men turn towards the cashiers' desk, where Matt is holding out his phone as the giggling redhead assistant types her number in.

Mike rolls his eyes, but his dad just laughs. "How about we get Don Juan over there and go grab some lunch? My treat."

His father's strong, warm arm rests on his shoulder, and Mike can't help the grin that comes over his face. "Sounds good Dad. Sounds good."

XxX

The night before the wedding Santana, Kurt, Sam and Matt turn up at Mike and Tina's apartment. Tina had scoffed over the whole 'can't see each other the night before the wedding' thing, but their wedding party had been insistent. They all crowd into the tiny kitchen and wait as Mike packs up his clothes and all the things he'll need for the big day.

When he's finished, and he stands before Matt and Sam, Mike blanches. "You're not going to shove me in a trunk again are you?"

Sam grins, and pats him on the shoulder as Matt takes the bags. "Nah, if you come quietly we'll let you ride in the back seat."

Tina and Mike hug each other tightly, his face buried in her hair and her fingers clutching at his plaid shirt. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she whispers, ignoring the kissy faces Santana is making in the background as she uncorks a bottle of champagne.

Kissing her lightly, Mike nods his head. "I'll be waiting."

They kiss once, twice, three times and again, and then Matt and Sam are groaning and dragging Mike by the arms, and Tina stands in hot-pants and a t-shirt and yells down the stairs. "Matthew Rutherford if you get him too drunk to walk down the aisle tomorrow there's gonna be hell to pay! Sam – don't think that doesn't go for you too!"

The two men wave at her in acknowledgement as they bundle Mike into the car.

XxX

Santana brushes Tina's hair as Kurt paints her toes, and it's honestly one of the most decadent feelings (outside of the bedroom) that Tina can recall. She sips her champagne and can't help the smile that breaks across her face. "I love you guys, you know that?" she tells them, and Kurt just smiles back, amused, but Santana squeezes her shoulder.

"That's why we're here Loser."

"And Brit didn't mind not coming?" Tina asks, chewing her little fingernail until Kurt smacks her ankle to stop. She tucks her free hand under her thigh and sticks her tongue out at him.

Threading her fingers through Tina's hair, Santana begins to wind it into a simple, messy braid. "She's spending the night at the hotel with Quinn and the girls," Santana explains, tying the end off with a pink elastic. "They're having their own little 'first Gleek wedding' party with, I don't know…show tunes and waxing."

There's a moment's pause as Santana's words seem to sink in, and all of a sudden Tina's face crumples and she bursts into tears. Kurt and Santana share a brief look of horror before moving to wrap Tina in their arms.

"Tina, what's wrong?" Kurt asks, squeezing her hand tightly, his free hand rubbing her knee.

Tina heaves a heavy sob, tears rolling down her cheeks and streaking her mascara. "I – I'm g-getting m-married!" she hiccups, her eyes wide and surprised, as though with all the planning and running around, the true reality is just sinking in.

Santana can't help but laugh, hugging Tina tightly. "Did you only just notice? The dress and the flowers and all the pre-wedding sex didn't give it away?"

"I just can't believe I'm marrying Mike." She looks both terrified and ecstatic, and presses her palms against suddenly warm cheeks. "I'm going to be his wife."

Reaching over, Kurt picks up the champagne bottle, and tops up Tina's glass. "And he's going to be your husband. Honestly, Tina, the rest of us have pretty much been waiting for this day since we were sixteen. It was inevitable."

Tina sniffles. "Really?"

"Totally." Santana reaches up and brushes tears from Tina's cheeks with a firm stroke. "Now stop being a sissy and drink your champagne. We've got a lot to talk about."

"We do?"

"Tina, it's your wedding night tomorrow. Now I know you and Chang get up to all kinds of wanky shit, but I'd feel remiss if I didn't share some of the tricks I've picked up over the years."

"Oh God," Kurt groans from Tina's other side. Reaching forward, he tops up his own glass. "I am going to need to be way drunker to get through this."

Snatching the rest of the champagne away, Santana drinks straight from the bottle, the green glass glinting in the dim evening light. "Ignore him," she orders, licking the last droplets of fizzy liquid from her lips. "He's just still scarred from the time we got trapped in your bathtub and had to listen to you and Mike going at it. Personally, I was impressed by your stamina."

Tina giggles, curling her feet up on the sofa and resting her head on Kurt's shoulder. He covers his eyes, half giggling and half groaning and curves his body into the dark haired girl next to him. "Make her stop Tina, make her stop."

But Santana just stretches her legs out, wiggling her bright pink toes as they sit atop the coffee table. She points a finger at Kurt. "I've been with more people than the two of you put together. You could learn something from me."

Tina's laughing now – tears forgotten – and quirks an eyebrow at Santana. "Like how to almost break your neck having sex?"

Kurt snorts a laugh, but Santana just flicks her hair behind her shoulder, looking indignant. "Hey, it's not my fault that Brittany decided to jump of the bed when my head was…occupied. That girl has some seriously strong thighs."

"Why would she…?" Kurt laughs, clutching his stomach, the pale liquid in his glass sloshing as he shakes. "I mean, what - ?"

"There was a spider," Santana shrugs. " It's her natural instinct."

"You couldn't look straight forward for _three days_." Tears trickle from Tina's eyes again, dripping of her eyelashes, but these are of mirth instead of shock. She clutches at Kurt's shoulder, holding herself up as he giggles into her hair.

"Whatever." Santana's voice is haughty and she rolls her eyes, but a smile pricks at the edge of her lips. "At least I didn't end up in the ER needing stitches after my porno re-enactment went wrong."

Kurt's in hysterics, and Tina launches herself across the sofa until she straddles Santana, half-wrestling half-tickling her until they're laughing and breathless and teetering on the edge of the sofa and Santana's calling 'Uncle'. Tina pushes her slightly so she goes toppling over, landing on the hardwood floor in a mess of sprawling arms and legs, but doesn't fight when Santana grabs her wrist and pulls her down on top of her. They snuggle on the smooth floor. "I can't believe you told Kurt!" Tina mumbles against Santana's skin, and Kurt just grins down at them.

"Don't worry Tee," he leers, waggling his eyebrows. "I promise I won't tell…"

"You better not," she shoots back at him, tugging the cuff of his pants until he slides down to sit next to them. "Or I'll tell Finn where your favourite place used to be to have sex with Blaine your Senior year."

Kurt gasps. "You wouldn't!"

"Oh I would."

There's a long staring contest – a battle of wills – until Kurt finally nods. "Fine," he insists. " I won't tell anyone about your and Mike's little hospital journey and you don't tell anyone – _especially Finn – _about me and Blaine having sex in his room."

Santana barks a laugh into the open air. "Did the cowboy sheets get you going?"

Kurt just pushes his bangs back from his forehead. "If you must know, my dad soundproofed the room so Finn could play his drums."

"_Wanky." _

"Santana!"

XxX

Tina wakes up in the morning with her hair stuck to her cheek and Kurt face down on the bed next to her, his blue stripy t-shirt riding up to show a sliver of his pale skin. For a moment, she has a ridiculous urge to reach over and tickle him, but she knows Kurt has no sense of humour before his morning coffee. And thinking of coffee, Tina suddenly becomes aware of the smell – the rich, warm aroma filling the room – and the sound of clattering pots and pans.

Sitting up, she pushes the loose strands of her long hair back from her face with both hands, taking a deep breath. The soft grey material of Mike's t-shirt (that she had stolen to wear to bed some months ago) shifts against her skin, and she breathes in the scent of their laundry detergent and just him. Still half-asleep, it makes her smile.

There's a burst of laughter from the other side of the not-quite-closed door, and it's enough to pique Tina's curiosity, because Kurt is asleep next to her and it most definitely isn't Santana's low, smoky chuckle. Pushing the covers off of her legs (and ignoring the way it makes Kurt grumble as he roots further into the pillows), she climbs out of bed and wends her way into the hall, rubbing her eyes with the back of her wrists.

The sight that meets her is startling. Rachel is standing over the stove, flour streaked across her forehead, poking at a perfectly round pancake with a fork and laughing as Mercedes chops an apple into equal segments, her hair wrapped around with a beautiful silky scarf. Quinn's setting the table, mismatched knives and forks lined up with practiced exactitude and a vase full of flowers bright and inviting in the centre of the table. Brittany sits on the counter, her feet swinging in a gentle arc, and Santana stands between her legs, their foreheads touching as they giggle about something quiet and private.

"Oh my God." Tina's hand is pressed against her mouth, and she feels her heart flip in her chest.

"You like it?" Kurt's voice is sleepy from behind her, and when she turns her head, he grins down at her, apparently unaware of the adorable way his hair sticks up in back. "We thought we'd send you off in style."

She leans back against his solid chest, pulling his arms around her body and squeezing hard. "I love it," she murmurs, and she can already feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "You guys."

Everyone's eyes are on her, but it's Quinn that finally breaks the moment and comes around the table, reaching out for her and pulling her towards the group. "Get all the crying done now," she teases, hugging her tightly, blonde hair trailing a scent of gardenias. "You know Kurt will kill you if you mess up your mascara later."

"She's right," Kurt smiles, reaching over Mercedes to steal a piece of apple, popping it between his lips and laughing when she bats him away with a smack to the chest.

Tina's passed around the group, arms winding themselves around her, and she's struck all over again by these women; these women who she has known for years, and feels like she's seeing for the first time today. From Quinn's smiling green eyes, to Rachel's loud laughter, to Mercedes' voice as she sings along with the radio. Brittany and Santana's entangled fingers. All of them, amazing, and beautiful, and here just for her.

A loud popping sound makes her startle, but then champagne is flowing, and Kurt is handing her a glass. "Happy wedding day," he grins.

The tears slip down Tina's cheeks unabashed.

XxX

Tina's so nervous and excited she just stares down at the apple pancake on her plate, prodding it with her fork. Across from her, Santana furrows her eyebrows as she eats, one knee pulled up and her foot propped up on the chair. She's already on her second helping, despite her earlier complaints about the 'hippy weak-ass vegan-ness' of the breakfast, and clears syrup from her bottom lip with a sweep of her thumb.

"Are you going to eat that or just play with it?"

"Did I overcook it?" Rachel asks, worriedly, from the seat next to Santana, and she pokes at her own pancake as though to check its validity. "I can make you another one if there's something wrong."

Tina shakes her head. "There's nothing wrong with it Rach – it's perfect – I just…" she trails off, lifting her mug to her lips, letting the Jamaican blend wash over tongue. Sighing, she sets the cup down but keeps her hands wrapped around it so the warmth spreads through her fingers. "I'm just…I can't get my head around eating right now."

Tutting, Mercedes drops into the chair next to her and takes the fork from her plate. Cutting a piece of pancake, she lifts the fork to Tina's lips. "Open the tunnel for the choo choo train!"

It's enough to make Tina laugh – which was Mercedes' intention – and when her lips part, Mercedes sticks the fork inside. Tina chokes – just for a second, as she laughs – and then swallows the food. "Mercedes!"

The other girl shows no remorse. She just loads the fork up again. "We can't have you passing out before you get down the aisle."

Tina lets her feed her another bite, chewing slowly this time. It's somewhat ridiculous, but a strange part of her likes the mothering.

"Plus you're gonna' need your energy for the wedding night," Santana teases from across the table. Her grin is large and wicked. "I mean, knowing how wanky you and Mike normally are, you're really going to have to raise the bar tonight."

Everyone's laughing then, and Tina's blushing, and Kurt's just rolling his eyes. "I think she had enough tips from you last night Santana," he assures, ruffling her hair as he scoots around her chair (and it's testament to how much Santana has grown since High School – she would have ripped his hand right off if he had tried that move at McKinley). Settling himself on the arm of the couch (where Quinn is currently painting Brittany's nails a subtle, shimmery pearl colour), he takes a large bite of apple. "But I do agree, you need to eat."

Tina rolls her eyes, but lets Mercedes feed her the rest of the pancake without argument. When she's finished, she snuggles against her friend's soft, warm shoulder and watches as Rachel begins clearing the plates, Santana grouches as she sucks the last of the syrup of her thumb and Brittany blows on her fingers while getting scolded by Kurt that they won't dry evenly if she does that. She's just getting relaxed when Mercedes shifts, and Tina finds herself being pulled up from her chair.

"Right, girl. You need to get your butt in the shower, you're getting married in six hours and Matt's already text to say Mike's up and jumping around the hotel like the Energiser Bunny on acid. Sam actually had to take him out for a run. Like a dog."

They're laughing, but her words make Tina remember something important. "You did give Blaine the box didn't you?" she asks Kurt as she pulls the elastic out of her hair, and it goes spilling around her shoulders. "And he'll remember to give it to Mike?"

Kurt rests his hands on her shoulders. "I did, and he will. Don't worry. Now go wash your hair. We're waiting to make you beautiful."

XxX

The shower is warm and relaxing, and Tina finds herself wiggling around as the sound of Journey playing in the front room mingles with the steam. She combs the conditioner through her hair, leaving it in while she rubs blissful bath gel up and down her body. The water runs off her slick skin and patters at her feet.

Six hours. Six hours and she'll be walking up the aisle to get married. To Mike. She's marrying Mike today.

Her breath quickens just slightly as she rinses her hair, before turning off the shower spray. _She's getting married today. _ She wraps a fluffy towel around her body, twisting her hair so that water splashes onto he toes. _Getting married. Today. To Mike. _She pulls the door open and cool air and music buffer her skin. _Getting married. To Mike. Forever._

She barely has time to catch her breath before Kurt is pulling her down onto one of the kitchen chairs, an army of bottles and tubes and brushes around him. He's already changed into his suit pants but his shirt is still hanging up by the window, and so his arms are bare and surprisingly muscled as he stands in his undershirt. "Chin up," he orders, tilting her face with gentle fingers, and she follows his instructions, even as her hands tremble in her lap. Mercedes moves behind her and gently begins teasing the knots out of her hair, and Quinn snaps a picture as Rachel begins singing 'Marry You', her hair perfectly curled and her make up done, but dressed in only a pale pink slip.

Santana's laughing as Brittany grabs Rachel and dances around the room in her underwear, long legs tanned and toned and her blonde hair whipping around her shoulders. Santana sits cross-legged on the floor, eyes open wide as she sweeps mascara across her lashes.

Everyone is moving and noisy and laughing and the clock over the front door is ticking loudly and Tina can feel her heart beating in her chest so hard it makes her ribs ache.

Kurt rubs bronzer onto her cheekbones and Tina feels her breath catch.

"I'm sorry," she says, pushing herself up, ignoring the way Kurt protests and Mercedes squeaks. "I'm sorry I just - "

She doesn't even finish her sentence before tearing through the room, running into her bedroom and closing the door with a slam. She presses a hand hard against her bare chest and tries to take deep breaths, but her lungs fight and her vision swims. She feels her knees buckle and is seriously concerned that she might pass out on her bedroom floor when a pair of strong, tan hands grip her shoulders.

"Slow breaths," Santana's calm, collected voice breaks through the grey haze, and then she's leading Tina to the edge of the bed, gently ease her down. "In and out."

Santana's palm is rubbing her back and Tina squeezes her eyes shut and takes a slow breath in. Where her lungs had previously stuttered, they now relax, and she feels oxygen flood through her body. Her vision begins to clear. "Oh God," she exhales, pressing her palms against her cheeks. "How crazy did I look out there?"

The hug is fierce and warm and Tina leans into the touch with something like desperation. Santana's voice is firm. "No one is going to judge you for a little pre-wedding jitters," she assures. Then, crouching down, she kneels in front of Tina. "That's all it is, right?"

Tina nods, but then shakes her head, and then tears are bubbling at the corners of her eyes and she's shrugging. "I don't know." She hiccups, and begins to cry, and wetness drips down her cheeks. "What if I'm making a mistake San?"

The shock is evident on Santana's face. She pales about three shades beneath her California tan. "What do you mean a mistake? This is you. And Mike. You guys, you're…" she trails off, unable even to put it onto words. Instead she wraps her fingers around Tina's hand. "What are you scared of?"

Reaching up, Tina brushes her tears away with something akin to frustration. "What if…what if I'm not good enough for him?" she asks, and her voice is quiet and almost inaudible, and she doesn't meet Santana's eye. "What if I hold him back and can't give him everything he wants – the kids he wants and the life he wants and – _God, _Santana," she sniffles, clasping her hands together. "I just love him too much for that."

There's a heavy sigh, followed by almost a stifled chuckle, and then Santana is back on the bed next to her and her fingers are tipping up Tina's chin. "First of all, I've known Mike since he was five. And I've only ever seen him want two things: high score on DDR, and you. You guys…you work, okay? You work and you make each other happy, and Tina, if you think for even one moment that you're not good enough for him then I'm actually going to go Lima Heights on your ass, okay?"

Tina laughs then, and feels her muscles begin to unknot, but Santana isn't quite done. She hugs her firmly. "Now seriously, Kurt is going to kill you if you mess up your face so listen to me. I said this when we were 17 and I'll say it again: that boy is crazy fucking stupid for you. He is all about you. Loser..._Tina_...he loves you. Mike loves you. And unless I've been like drunk or high these last few years, you're pretty bat-shit insane about him too. Now I know you're freaked - today is a big fucking day, but it's *your* fucking day. Yours and Mike's. And you two are going to go out there and rock it because you're the same people who you were yesterday and the day before. So fucking man up, let Kurt sew you into that dress, and let's get rocking because I got a girl out there who's been looking forward to being your bridesmaid for years. Okay?"

It's exactly what she needs to hear, and Tina feels relief pulse through her veins with her blood. "Okay," she agrees, wrapping her arms around Santana's shoulders and squeezing tightly. "Thanks Santana."

XxX

Her makeup's done and her hair is pinned up and she's running through the apartment in just a bathrobe, letting Brittany twirl her around to the music.

By the window, Kurt's zipping Santana into her dress and adjusting the skirt so it flares around her knees, tying the sash with a practiced hand. Quinn's behind her, twisting some of the loose strands around the heated curling iron, the skirt of her own pale green dress swishing around and diamonds glinting in her ears.

Rachel's dressed now and sat on the counter, letting Mercedes brush a light dust of blusher across her cheeks. "What time are your parents coming Tina?" she asks, trying not to move her face too much as Mercedes scrutinises her skin.

Tina stops dancing with Brit long enough to look up at the clock. "Uh, in like an hour?" she laughs as Brittany grabs her around the waist and spins her in a circle. "Why?"

The rest of the people in the room share a look, but no one speaks. "No reason," Rachel breezes, hopping off the counter and sliding her feet back into her strappy shoes. "Just curious."

Tina can feel herself frowning, but then Kurt reaches out and grabs her by the arm. "Your turn, not-so-Single Lady," he grins, and then reaches into the box where her dress has been laying. The layers of white chiffon rustle and the silk underskirt slides against his gentle hands, and the girls making cooing noises of appreciation.

"Kurt," she breathes, staring at the beautiful material, unable to tear her eyes away from gathers of lace at the shoulders. She'd seen it in stages, but to see it all together, finished and perfect and _hers…_"It's gorgeous."

His cheeks flush, just slightly, but he holds his head up high. "Of course it is. What did you expect? That I'd let you walk down the aisle in something less than completely fabulous?"

Tina's just about to shrug off her bathrobe when a voice stops her. "Wait!"

Turning around, she sees Santana holding something behind her back, and Rachel and Mercedes are glancing at each other, and Quinn's rocking back and forth on her heels. Brittany's just grinning. "We, uh, we have something for you. Before you finish getting ready."

Tina feels herself flush. "You guys have done too much already, honestly."

They ignore her, and pull her onto the sofa, and then the girls are sitting around her like little powder puffs of colour, and Kurt's perching on the worn, battered arm of the seat. "This is tradition," he tells her, and his smile is honest, but a little sad, and makes Tina slide her hand in his. He squeezes her fingers before reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out a small, black box. She takes it, curious, and opening the stiff hinge, finds a pair of small, perfectly round pearl earrings sitting on a bed of crimson velvet. "They were my Mom's," he tells her, and she can hear the slight wobble in his voice. "I would…I'd be really honoured if you'd wear them. If you want to. As your 'something old'."

"_Kurt," _she breathes, reaching into the box and taking one out, holding it in her palm. "Are you sure? I mean, these are yours, and they're so special."

"So are you," he tells her honestly, and she can feel herself welling up, but a quick look around the other girls proves she isn't the only one. Kurt holds her hair back while she fixes the pearls in her ears, and then waves his hands at Rachel, who's laugh is bright but watery. "No one is allowed to cry," he orders, but when he pulls Tina against his side and kisses her temple, she can feel wetness on his cheek.

Tina can't help but run a finger over the smooth spheres in her ear, and think back to when she was seven and sat in a pew behind the boy from dance class, who had become her best non-school friend. She remembers his tiny black suit, and his tears, and the photo of the smiling woman that stood atop the casket at the front of the church. She remembers the way they had hugged, afterwards, and she had wondered how she would ever bring a smile to his face again.

But he grins down at her now, and she kisses his cheek, and then rubs her thumb against his skin to remove the ruby marks. He grouses and laughs, but keeps his arm around her shoulders, warm and comforting and familiar.

"Us next!" Brittany is bouncing on her knees, knelt on the floor, and her hair swishes in its braid, the white flower bobbing behind her ear.

Santana, next to her, holds out a small parcel that has been wrapped up in bright pink tissue paper. "Your 'something new'," she grins wickedly with a wink, and Tina is slightly hesitant as she opens the wrapping.

What she finds inside makes her blush scarlet, and she pulls out the scraps of white lace with one hand over her eyes. "_Santana!" _

The brunette just grins, "Oh please, like I haven't be with you when you've bought something just as wanky."

"I'm sure there's always been more to them than this."

"Well this is for under your dress. You don't want lines."

"She's right you know," Mercedes grins, an evil co-conspirator. "Kurt didn't spend all that time making you a beautiful dress so you could see your panties through it."

"These _count _as panties?"

"It's also for tonight," Santana grins. "So Mike'll owe me one."

Tina runs her thumb over the sofa white lace. Although so skimpy she actually wonders how they stay together, the set really is beautiful. "Thank you both," she smiles, leaning over and kissing Brit's cheek, and then Santana's. She clutches the underwear in her hands. "I actually love them."

Santana leans back against Brittany, and the blonde puts her arms around her without a moment's hesitation. "Of course you do," she grins, and her black skirt billows around her thighs. "I have awesome taste."

"Something borrowed!" Rachel crows from her place on the floor, too excited to wait, and she reaches into the small purse in front of her, taking something out that is tiny enough to fit in the palm of her hand. On the couch on Tina's other side, Mercedes does the same.

Keeping her fist tightly closed, Mercedes prompts, "Hold you hands out."

Tina does as she's told, and feels cool, smooth metal slide into her palms. Looking down, she instantly recognises Mercedes 'M' necklace that she wore all throughout High School, and Rachel's gold star on its delicate chain.

"We thought you could wrap them around your bouquet," Rachel suggests with a small shrug, as though a part of her is expecting Tina to reject the gift. "So, it's like you have a little bit of us walking down the aisle with you. Like we're holding your hands."

Tina closes her fingers over the delicate jewellery, and presses them against her chest. "I…" she starts, but has to swallow thickly before she can continue. "I would really, really like that." She leans forward and gently sets the necklaces on the coffee table, reaching up to press a finger against her carefully inked eyelashes. "So that's 'something old', 'something new', 'something borrowed'…"

Quinn rocks on her heels with a smile. "Something blue," she says in her soft, even voice, and bites her lip as she holds out the long, electric blue strand that Tina immediately recognises as one of her old hair extensions.

"Where did you get this?" Tina laughs, reaching out to hold it. "God, I haven't worn these I was a Sophomore."

"It's not _actually _one of yours," Quinn corrects with a smile. "I got it at Claire's. And I…I know you don't wear them anymore. But I thought it would be kind of cute. Because you with blue hair…Mike gets to marry you as an adult, but also the fifteen year old you that he fell in love with."

Tina fingers the soft strands, and looks at Kurt expectantly. Blue hair hadn't exactly been in his plans for her look, but he just smiles down at her. "Quinn already called and asked me. And while blue is nowhere near the colour palette for the day, if you want to wear it, I don't mind."

Grinning, Tina reaches up and carefully clips it into her hair, just behind her ear. Kurt reaches out, fiddling with a hairpin, and then it's part of her tumbling curls, like it's been there all along. She stares out at her friends, who all smile and hold each other's hands and she thinks her heart might actually explode because she's never felt as much for them as she does right now.

"I love you guys," she laughs with a hiccup, and then there's a flurry of arms and lips and Kurt's yelling for them all to mind their hair but his words don't mean too much when his arms are in the centre of the huddle, holding just as tight.

Eventually, they all pull back, and then Tina's grinning and claps her hands together. "Let's get ready for a wedding."

XxX

Matt stands in front of Mike, straightening his tie. Behind them, rows of folding chairs sit, facing forwards, for now empty but people are beginning to mill about in the garden, bright jewelled flashes of colour that distract Mike for a moment until Matt tugs hard on the knot at his throat.

"Hey!" Mike yelps, twisting his body away and rubbing at his neck. "What was that for?"

Smoothing the front of his grey vest down, Matt just smirks. "Keeping your head in the game, what else? Sam's making sure the car with Tina and her parents in it has a good parking spot and the guys have gone to meet the other girls. You should be thankful I'm standing here with you instead of catching an early glimpse of those bridesmaids. Seriously. Feel the love, bro."

Mike rocks on his heels, his black and white tartan Converses peeking out from beneath the hem of his tailored pants. He fingers the matching cufflinks that had been a surprise gift from Tina that morning, smuggled into the boys' hotel by Blaine and passed to him over three rounds of bacon and eggs. "I'm getting married today," Mike breathes, and even though he's been saying it all morning to anyone who would listen (the older couple at the ice machine at 6am, the bellboys, the staff at the hotel desk, and a plethora of unfortunate people just out enjoying their morning runs), the words seem truer right now than they have all day.

Matt just grins, squaring up the knot of his own white tie so it lays flat against his black shirt. "I know." Then clapping his hand down on Mike's shoulder, he chuckles, unable to stop himself. "You are one lucky fuck."

Looking across at him, Mike just swallows, hard. "Shit."

"Yep."

There's a flash of blonde hair and bright white sleeves, and then Sam is standing next to the two of them, his large mouth wide and grinning. "They're here," he tells the two other men, bouncing on the balls of his black-Con'd feet. "You ready for this, man?"

Mike takes a deep breath and watches as their guests begin to murmur to each other, the excitement palpable as they slide into their seats. He catches sight of a pink-clad Rachel, and Quinn in green, being shooed into the second-from-front row by a very well-cleaned-up Puck. Rachel catches Mike's eye and gives him a thumbs up, which makes him smile, just briefly.

"Yeah I'm ready," he breathes, turning to his two best men – the two men he can't imagine standing up here without – and grips their shoulders. "You guys are the best friends I could have asked for, you know that?"

Sam grins, ducking his head so his bright bangs fall across his forehead, but Matt just laughs, loudly, and punches Mike in the arm. "Pussy," he teases, before pulling Mike into a fierce, fleeting hug. "Now let's get you married."

XxX

Santana's smoothing her skirt down at the back as Kurt fixes the pins in her hair and Brittany bites her lip as she holds Tina's brimming white bouquet in her hands. The slender chains of Mercedes and Rachel are tucked carefully inside the ribbons, but Tina knows when she rubs her thumb over them she can feel the indentation.

"Okay, I have to go and sit down," Kurt tells Tina as he straightens the straps of her dress, and then leaning back, cups her cheeks in his hands. "You look beautiful," he promises, hugging her one more time. "I'm so proud of you."

"That's supposed to be my line," Tina's dad pipes up as he steps out of the car, holding his hand out for his wife who looks glamorous and pristine in her dark magenta dress. His own suit is crisp and elegant, and his words are softened with an easy wink and a pat to Kurt's shoulder. "But you're absolutely right."

Kurt hugs Tina again, and then Gloria (who presses her painted lips against his cheek and whispers something that makes him stifle a snort of laughter), shakes hands with Kim Cohen-Chang, then kisses Brittany on the cheek and straightens the flower in Santana's hair as he goes. "See you ladies down the aisle."

He disappears off with a wiggled wave of his fingers, and then Tina's standing there, in her wedding dress, with her parents and the girls that she thinks of as sisters, and she can hear music beginning to play in anticipation of her arrival.

Gloria reaches up, smoothing an escaping tendril behind Tina's ear, and cups her cheek. "My little girl," she breathes, her smile watery, and presses a kiss to Tina's temple. "All grown up."

"But still yours," Tina promises, and she can feel a tingle in the back of her throat that she fights against, not wanting her walk down the aisle to be blinded by tears. "I'll always be yours, Mom." Reaching out, she grabs the edge of her father's shirt cuff, and pulls him into the embrace. "Yours too, Dad."

The three Cohen-Changs simply hold each other for a moment, but then Kim leans back and looks over at the other two girls who are standing in their matching black dresses, white sashes tied firmly around their waists and pristine flowers pinned in an intricate braid and tucked behind tumbling curls. Their fingers are entangled and while the blonde just watches with a small smile, the brunette looks deflated. "Family hug going on San, you and Brit better get yours butts over."

She doesn't have to be asked twice. Tugging Brittany forward, Santana launches herself into the group with a bright, unhindered grin, her arms going around Tina on one side and Kim on the other, and then Gloria is tugging Brittany close and wrapping her arm around the tall girl's shoulders.

Since her Senior Year, when Santana had turned up at the Cohen-Chang house with a duffle bag and the simple phrase _'I told my parents about Brittany, they think it's just a phrase. Would it be okay if maybe I stayed here tonight?', _Kim Cohen-Chang had taken her into his heart as one of his own. Even with her cursing, and her terrible driving, and her often dubious attitude, Santana had become the second daughter that he and Gloria had never been able to have themselves. And when she had brought Brittany along, well, he had felt like their odd little family was complete.

Kim looks down at these women – at these four different, brilliant women – and for a moment he simply smiles. Tina notices, and squeezes his hand. "Dad? You okay?"

"Just having a proud father moment," he smiles, squeezing her hand back. "You think Mike's ready up there?"

Santana laughs, throwing her head back. "Probably shitting himself with excitement."

Pulling back slightly, Kim smoothes down his pink tie (and Tina can't help but be impressed that he's co-ordinated so well with her mom), and holds out his arm for her. "May I?"

Tina's blushing, and nodding, and loops her arm through her father's on one side, and her mother's on the other. Behind them, Santana and Brittany link their pinkies, ready to follow up the aisle.

The five of them step up to the end of the row of chairs, and the afternoon sun shines overhead, and Tina hears the distinct starting notes of 'In My Life' being played on a piano. In the distance, she can see Blaine's curly hair bobbing up and down as he concentrates on playing, and feels her heart beat hard, overwhelmed with feelings.

In front of her, rows and rows of people sit – her work colleagues, college friends, family, and her old friends. She clutches her flowers tightly in her hands as she looks straight forwards. Mike's standing, back to her, but she'd recognise him through a million people. Through every star in the sky. Matt and Sam flank him – night and day – and as she takes her first step up the aisle, she sees Matt sneak a look over his shoulder, and then lean over and whisper something Mike's ear.

Then she takes another step, and everyone's on their feet, and she stops thinking all together.

XxX

"Wait 'til you see her."

Matt's grinning, and then Sam sneaks a look behind and he's grinning too, and it takes every ounce of self-control Mike has not to turn and go running down the aisle. He can hear Blaine's fingers trickling over the piano keys, melody gentle but filling the beautiful garden like an enchantment, and he counts the beats as though they'll give away just how close Tina is to him now.

He's barely had time to process the thoughts, to count the notes, before Sam's gripping his elbow. "Dude," he prompts, and his grin is _so _wide that Mike wonders for a second that it doesn't hurt. "You can turn around."

It's the most ungraceful turn he's ever done, because his feet don't seem to be listening to his brain, and for a moment he's just grateful that he manages to stay upright but then he stops caring that he's standing up, stops caring what he looks like, stops caring about _anything, _because Tina is standing in front of him. Tina dressed in white, with her ruby red lip caught between her teeth and her eyes bright and smiling. Tina, who simply stands, and reaches out a hand.

"Hi," she breathes, stepping up towards him, and over her shoulder he can see her mother's watery smile and her father's simple pride. Brittany and Santana are grinning fit to burst, looking so simply beautiful together with Brit's bright hair along side Santana's dark, their pinkies linked and swinging as they take their places to the side.

But Tina. _Tina. _God, he's thought she was beautiful since she was fifteen, but that's nothing, _nothing, _to how she looks right now. Her hair pulled half back, a white camellia tucked in the curls, and as she pushes a strand behind her ear he catches a flash of blue and reaches up to touch it. "You're beautiful," he tells her without pause, because it's all that he can think, and she just smiles up at him as he threads their hands together. "Ready?"

Her nod is firm, and her smile bright, and as they turn and face the minister, Mike's never felt more ready for anything in his whole life.

XxX

The ring slides on her finger as though it was made to be there, which Tina supposes, it probably was. But the way Mike laces their fingers together after putting it on - and it sends jolts all the way through her body – no one could manufacture that.

"For better, for worse," he repeats the minister, staring into Tina's face, his dark eyes completely focused, and even though his hands shake in hers, his voice is strong and smooth and sure. "For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death parts us."

Tina feels a tear trickling down her cheek, and Mike laughs, softly, reaching up and swiping it away with his thumb. He rocks on his plaid Converse heels. "All day, every day Tina," he adds on in a murmur, in his own words – _their _own words – "I love you."

"All day, every day," she agrees with a firm nod of her head. "I love you too."

There's a pause where they just stare at each other, and then the minister is speaking again, and really the only words that seem to pierce Tina's brain are _'husband and wife'_ because then there's clapping, and Mike's grinning so wide she's surprised it doesn't actually hurt, but she can feel her own lips burbling with happy laughter. And then they're kissing, and her arms are laced around his neck, and his are pressed against her back, and there's catcalling, and cheering and applause, and she can't help but laugh against Mike's lips when she recognises a very familiar voice from behind her.

"Dude, I wasn't _crying, _okay? I have allergies!"

It's not a church kiss, not even close, but then they're not in a church and it's _them, _and she thinks if he presses her any closer to him they'll actually cease to be two separate entities and just meld together. When she finally pulls away, she can feel her cheeks flush and he looks breathless and his chest heaves. People are still cheering, and in the periphery of her vision she can see Puck stick two fingers in his mouth and wolf whistle. There are fresh tear-tracks on his cheeks.

Mike holds out his hand to her. "Ready?"

Nodding her head, she grabs his hand and holds tight.

The minister looks at them and smiles. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm very proud to introduce Mr and Mrs Michael and Tina Chang."

The cheers are ear splitting.

XxX

The hugs are fast and fleeting and so numerous that after barely ten minutes of being married to Mike, Tina has lost him in the crowds after being sidetracked by one of her college classmates. She's just turning to search for him when a pair of arms wrap around her from behind and pick her up, spinning her in the air.

"Oh my God!" she screams, laughing, because she recognises the pressed shirtsleeves and the dirty chuckle behind her. "Put me down you crazy man."

Matt acquiesces, setting Tina down so her feet brush the soft grass, but when she turns to face him, he wraps his arms around her. "Congratulations Mrs Chang," he murmurs into her carefully curled hair, and presses a kiss against her cheek. "You're married."

"I am," she grins back, gripping his forearms and bouncing on the balls of her feet. She cranes her neck over the crowds, looking for Mike. "Have you seen my husband?" she asks, and gets a giddy little thrill at the word _husband. _Mike's her _husband. _

"Yes," Matt admits, but then adds. "But I'm meant to be distracting you."

Tina's taken aback by his words, and she can't help but allow her face to crumple into a frown. The camellia pinned into her hair comes slightly loose and she pushes it more securely behind her ear. "Distract me? Why?"

Matt scoffs at that. "It wouldn't be a very good distraction if I told you would it?" He smoothes down his tie, winking at one of Mike's dancer friends over Tina's shoulder, which makes her roll her eyes.

"Maaatt."

"You know, your life would have had more meaning if you'd slept with me."

She laughs at that, head thrown back and mouth open wide. "Oh please," she smacks him in the arm. "If it didn't work when Puck and Santana tried it, you really think I'm going to fall for it from you?" The words are harsh but she softens them with a wink that makes him grin and shrug and sling an arm around her shoulders.

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

He seems to see something over the crowd then, because he nods his head at someone and then takes her by the hand. "Come on."

She lets him lead her, the cool material of her dress swishing around her knees in the light early-evening breeze off the water. "Where are we going?" she asks, biting her lip, and people make a path for them as they walk through the crowds, parting like the red sea. They all wear knowing, amused smiles and Tina feels like she's missed out on some giant, cosmic secret. "Matt, what's going on?"

Suddenly, she's at the back of the garden, there's a perfectly formed circle of their friends and family surrounded by fairy lights, and Mike is standing in front of her, holding his hand out. "May I have this dance?" he asks, as a well-memorized introduction begins to play.

Tina feels her mouth drop open. "You didn't."

Mike just nods his head towards the small set-up stage, where a familiar face picks up a microphone and brings it to his lips. "I may have asked for a little help."

Tina can feel tears pricking at her eyes, and when Mike tugs her towards him, she goes willingly. Her head rests against his shoulder, one hand tucked firmly in his, and they begin to sway, together, as Artie's smooth, pitch-perfect voice breaks over them like a wave.

"_Stars shining bright above you. Light breezes seem to whisper, I love you. Birds singing in a sycamore tree...Dream a little dream of me." _

XxX


End file.
